First Snowfall of Winter
by jdmusiclover
Summary: Tis story was written for my CS Secret Santa giftee two years ago. As I was going through my old Christmas fics, I realized that this was never posted on it's own, so here you go! It's a Lieutenant Duckling story about best friends Princess Emma of Misthaven and stable boy Killian Jones and their tradition of always spending the day of the first snowfall of the year together.


**First Snowfall of Winter**

 _There was an ancient saying in the kingdom of Misthaven that the first snowfall of the winter was a magical thing, that those who first met beneath its soft flakes would share a lifelong bond…_

Nine-year-old Killian Jones slumped down on a large rock outside the stables, biting his lip to keep it from quivering, blinking rapidly to keep the tears at bay. He wasn't a baby! He wasn't going to cry!

Liam said this was a good thing; that he would be well cared for; that they'd be able to make a life for themselves now, and Killian believed him. Of course he was grateful to be away from Capt'n—he still had bruises from the last beating the tyrant had given him, the beating that convinced Liam that they needed to make a run for it. And King David and Queen Snow seemed quite kind and gentle.

Aye, he was grateful for the turn their lives had taken, but he couldn't help the lump in his throat when he thought of what happened yesterday. Was it not bad enough that Papa had left him? Did Liam really have to leave too?

"I'm not leaving you, little brother," Liam had said patiently when Killian had objected to the arrangement. "I'm merely going to sea. You know what an opportunity it is that King David gave us. A cabin boy in the Royal Navy! Me! I'll soon earn enough money to get us our own home and an education and everything we could want."

"But we'll be apart for three whole months, Liam!" Killian had wailed. "We're all the family we have left!"

Liam slung an arm awkwardly over his brother's shoulder. "I'll miss you too, but the three months will fly by like the wind. You'll see! King David has promised to care for you; employ you as his stable boy. You'll be so busy learning and working with his magnificent steeds you won't even have time to miss me! And then I'll be back. Besides, in a few short years you'll be old enough to be a cabin boy too, and then we'll be together always."

But a few short years felt like an eternity to a little boy who felt all alone in the world. A stubborn tear he couldn't quite hold back tracked its way down his cheek, and Killian wiped it away hastily.

"Are you crying?"

Killian startled at the voice, and looked up to see a little girl with blonde ringlets and compassionate green eyes.

"No," he said in a thick voice. "I'm not a baby; I don't cry!"

The little girl sat on the rock beside him. "It's not just babies that cry; even my papa cries sometimes. Are you sad?"

"Aye," he said with a sigh, realizing it would be useless to lie. "I miss my brother Liam. I wish he was here with me."

The girl was quiet for a moment, just looking at him. Killian shivered and pulled his coat closer around him as the winter wind began to blow.

"You're the new stable boy, aren't you?" the little girl said suddenly. "Mama said we have a new one and that I should be nice to you 'cause you're lonely. I'm Emma, by the way."

The little girl stuck out one tiny hand, and after a moment Killian shook it. Then her name and what she said struck him. Hastily he got to his feet and sketched a bow. "Emma…you're Princess Emma aren't you? The daughter of King David and Queen Snow?"

Emma grimaced. "Yes, I'm the princess. But I want to be just Emma; not princess Emma. Everybody calls me 'Your Highness' and bows and treats me like I'm some kind of breakable doll. I don't want people to be my subjects; I just want someone to be my friend! I'm lonely too."

A few stray flakes of snow began lazily drifting down, coating their hair and shoulders. Killian sat back beside the little girl and offered his hand in turn. "A pleasure to meet you 'just Emma'. My name is Killian. Perhaps we can be friends; then neither of us need be lonely."

 _…that a vow made during the first snowfall would never be broken…_

Emma pulled back her arm and then threw with all her nine-year-old might. Her aim was true, and a moment later Killian dropped to the ground, felled by the snowball that hit him squarely in the back.

"Just you wait, Swan!" he growled, getting to his feet and scraping the snow together to form his own ammunition. "I will get my vengeance!"

"Not if you can't catch me!" Emma said, giggling and running as fast as her legs would carry her in the opposite direction.

A year had passed since Killian came to work in the stables, and the two of them had formed a fast friendship. They were nearly inseparable, spending every free moment they had together, talking, playing, getting into so much mischief her nursemaid Johanna often threatened to ban Killian from the royal nursery altogether.

To be fair, it was normally Emma that got into mischief. Killian usually attempted to talk her out of it. "It's rather bad form to give the king and queen so much grief, Swan."

He'd taken to calling her "Swan" last spring, when they'd caught sight of one such bird on the lake. He'd commented that she was just like it; soft and graceful at some times, but a fierce and deadly fighter when she was angered.

Emma hurried behind the snow fort she'd constructed earlier that afternoon, knowing a moment of triumph.

The next thing she knew she was sprawled out on her back looking up into impossibly blue eyes and floppy black hair, the remnants of Killian's snowball seeping beneath the collar of her warm winter coat. "No fair, Killian!" she said with a frown. "I'd reached my fort. You can't tackle me behind my own fort! You know that's not 'good form' as you like to say!"

"Apologies, my lady." The laughter in his voice belayed his apology. Killian got hastily to his feet and then offered her a hand. "I suppose there's nothing for it; I must concede defeat. You have bested me."

"And just you remember it," Emma said, grinning once again and attempting to brush the snow from her skirt—a hopeless task as it was still falling fast and hard from the heavy clouds above. "What should we do now?"

Killian thought for a moment. "How about we go inside? We've already made a snowman and snow angels and snow forts and had a snowball fight. I'm starting to get cold."

"Okay," Emma said with a nod. "Besides, Mama promised to make us hot cocoa when we returned to the castle. I hope she remembers the cinnamon this time."

Killian chuckled. "How could she forget? You remind her _every time_ you see her after that one afternoon she left it off. C'mon; let's go!"

Emma stood still for a moment, and Killian looked back, his dark brow raised in confusion.

"Killian, you're my very best friend," Emma said abruptly.

"Aye," he answered "And you're mine."

"Let's make a promise that we'll always be friends. Forever."

He smiled. "I promise."

 _…that no distance can truly separate two hearts bound together by first snowfall magic…_

Fifteen-year-old Killian stood at the rail of _The Jewel of the Realm_ and watched as Misthaven slowly disappeared on the horizon. Liam clapped him on the back. "It's good to have you with us, little brother."

"Younger, brother, Liam," Killian said, brushing off his brother's hand. "I'm nearly as tall as you now!"

Liam laughed. "That's 'Lieutenant Jones' to you, cabin boy. Show your officers a little respect."

Killian grinned and then snapped to attention and presented his brother with a perfectly executed salute. "Aye, aye, Lieutenant!"

"It's finally here, brother," Liam said, putting a hand back on Killian's shoulder, "the day we've been waiting for. We're finally able to sail together once more."

Killian grinned, then turned back toward the rapidly disappearing shore as snowflakes began flying through the air. He felt a pang in his chest. This was the first time in six years he'd miss spending the first snowfall with Emma. He was grateful beyond words to be reunited with his beloved brother for more than just a few weeks at a time, but he couldn't lie. He missed his best friend already.

"Something the matter, Killian?" Liam asked, leaning against the railing next to him.

"No…" Killian said quickly. "Well, perhaps a bit. I'm accustomed to spending the day of the first snow with Emma; that's all."

Liam chuckled and ruffled Killian's hair. "Emma. Ah, so _that's_ what it is. Has cupid's arrow pierced my little brother's heart?"

Killian felt his face flame. "Leave off, Liam, you're being ridiculous! You know she's just my best friend!"

"Um-hm," Liam hummed, maddening grin firmly affixed. "I have eyes, you know. Don't think I didn't see the princess kiss your cheek as you bid her farewell. Don't think I missed the adoration in your eyes."

Killian sucked in a quick breath, his mind returning to that moment an hour ago. Emma had looked like an angel in her long, pink gown that brushed the ground, her hair pulled back into a gentle braid. There'd been so much affection in her eyes as she wished him a good trip and promised to write him every day.

Then she'd ghosted her lips against his cheek.

It had sparked something in him; something he couldn't explain. His heart beat faster, and he felt as though thousands of tiny butterflies were fluttering through his stomach. He could scarcely understand what was happening to him. Emma had kissed his cheek before, many times, in fact, and it had never affected him like that; it had never been anything more than a gesture of affection between friends.

But today…today everything had been different, and he hardly knew how to process it.

"Perhaps," Killian said slowly, "perhaps my feelings have begun to change for Princess Emma, but Liam, I know my place. She's the princess and I'm naught but a cabin boy. Best I not even allow myself to dream."

Liam turned Killian to him with a gentle hand. "Brother, you know as well as I that the princess is no respecter of persons. Should she come to fancy you, your station will be of no consequence to her. Should your fancy turn to love one day, never fear to fight for her heart. A man unwilling to fight for what he wants deserves what he gets."

 _…that love awakened among the first snowfall will never fade…_

Emma twirled before her floor-length mirror, admiring the way her deep-red ball gown flared out with the movement. She couldn't wait to wear the dress tonight at Misthaven's annual ball celebrating the start of the Yuletide festivities. At twenty-years-of-age, Emma had been attending the ball for a few years, but this year felt different.

This year Killian would be there.

For the past two years, he'd sat out the ball, still an enlisted man in the navy. But with this year's promotion to Lieutenant, he was expected to not only attend the ball, but dance with the ladies of the aristocracy and nobility.

Emma felt her cheeks heat at the thought, and it was _ridiculous_! Killian was her oldest and dearest friend, these…new feelings, newly awakened desires…well, they were just stupid. He'd likely laugh until he was blue in the face if he knew what she was currently thinking.

It was all Captain Liam's fault, really. Didn't the man know it was his job to teach his brother how to dance? What was he thinking giving that task to her?

Emma had the sneaking suspicion the oldest Jones man knew exactly what he was doing. The smirk he'd worn when he asked her to teach his hopeless little brother to dance had made little sense at the time, but now….now that things had changed, she couldn't help but wonder if Killian's brother had been attempting to play the matchmaker.

Emma let her mind wander back to the events of the afternoon that had changed everything.

She'd been sitting at her bay window, reading—a thrilling tale of adventure on the high seas—when she was interrupted by a quick rap at her open door. She looked up, and her heart stilled before racing faster than her father's thoroughbreds. Killian stood dressed in his brand new lieutenant's uniform—looking more than a bit bashful, she might add.

There was no other word for it; he had grown into a beautiful man. With his impossibly blue eyes, his dark hair, pulled back neatly into a ponytail at the back of his head, his skin tanned from weeks at sea, and his smile that could make the angels weep for joy, he was easily the handsomest man she'd ever laid eyes on.

"My princess," he said, in a soft, deep voice as he executed a perfect bow.

She'd felt her heart flutter, her stomach swoop, her jaw drop. She doubted she could say a word if her life depended on it.

After a moment, he grinned, his old familiar grin—two parts joy and one part pure mischief, and suddenly the spell was broken. She leapt to her feet, ran to him and enveloped him in a hug. "You're home! You're _finally_ home. And look at you! I'd heard about the promotion, but I had no idea you'd have your uniform yet."

Killian looked down at his attire and then scratched behind his ear. "Aye, well…it was something of a requirement. I must be properly clad for the ball tonight."

"Oh that's right! You'll be at the ball."

"Aye," he said with a deep sigh. "I gather Liam told you of my current predicament? My utter inability to dance?"

"Oh, that's no problem," Emma said, pulling at his arm and heading for the stairs. "Dancing's easy. All you need is a partner who knows what she's doing. I'd be more than happy to teach you."

They reached the great hall doors, and Emma continued on, not stopping until they'd reached their favorite forest clearing. It was then that Emma realized the snow had begun to fall.

"First snowfall of winter!" she exclaimed in delight, spinning in a circle like a child, sticking her tongue out to catch the delicate flakes. "Killian how long has it been since we shared first snowfall together?"

"Far, far too long, my Swan," he said in a soft voice, laden with an emotion Emma couldn't place.

She looked up quickly, and he was looking at her strangely, as though she was a precious jewel. Emma felt her cheeks flame, wondering what on earth had come over her childhood best friend.

In a moment he was back, _her_ Killian. The friend she'd known for years.

"It's quite simple, really," she said, stepping up to him. "Take my hand, and place your other at my waist, like so. Now follow my lead."

For several moments Emma was occupied with the intricacies of teaching Killian to dance, but he was a quick study, and soon he was moving as competently and gracefully as she was.

That's when she noticed how very close they were. She felt the weight of his hand on her waist, the way his breath tickled her face, the warmth of his body pressed close to hers, and for a moment she couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't do anything but stare into those eyes, deep and blue as the sea.

She'd never felt anything like this.

He seemed to be afflicted with the same madness. He held his breath for a moment and then, oh-so-slowly bent his head toward hers. She had the strangest sensation he meant to kiss her. Even stranger was how much she wished he would.

A moment later a raucous cardinal trilled out his song and the spell was broken. Killian stepped hastily back, his cheeks flaming as red as the bird who had disturbed their tete-a-tete. Emma felt a moment of loss, but the warmth in her heart; the warmth that suffused her entire being remained.

And now, two hours later, it had yet to cool. What was _happening_ to her?

And even more…how was she going to manage to dance with Killian tonight without making an utter fool of herself?

… _that a kiss shared between sweethearts during the first snowfall can't fail to be True Love's Kiss…_

Killian stood nervously beside his brother as the music began to play, as they waited for the arrival of the guests of honor. He tugged at his collar, remembering the afternoon when he'd almost lost his head and kissed the princess, when all his careful work to keep his feelings hidden had nearly crumbled.

But he'd missed her. He'd missed her with all his being, and when he saw her gracefully sitting in her window seat, he thought his heart would burst with emotion. He loved her; there was no other word for it.

He loved her, but she was the princess, and he was naught but a sailor. His love was doomed from the beginning, and he'd best remember that.

Killian felt Liam's hand on his shoulder. "Relax, brother," he said. "We're attending a ball, not an execution."

"Easy for you to say," Killian groused. "You've been attending these balls for years; you know _just_ what to say and how to act around the ladies. I fear I'll make a damned fool of myself."

Liam grinned. "From the looks Princess Emma is sending your way, I'd wager you could fall on your face, and she'd think you were brilliant."

"What?"

"Look, little brother. The royals have arrived."

Killian whipped his head around and then promptly felt the breath leave his lungs in a whoosh. She was a vision in her red ball gown, her blonde hair delicately twisted up upon her head. Her eyes sparkled, and…Liam was right…she was looking at him like he was the only man in the room.

"Go on, lad," Liam said with a gentle shove to the shoulder. "It's time you show her majesty that the Jones family charm didn't skip the younger son."

Killian's feet took him forward until he was within two feet of the princess. Then he took her hand and brought it to his lips. "You look stunning, Swan."

She blushed, the color only adding to her radiant beauty. "You look…"

"He knows," Liam offered helpfully, leaning in and grinning wide enough Killian thought his face would split in two.

"Leave off, Liam!" Killian shot over his shoulder. "I'm perfectly capable of talking to the lady on my own."

"As you wish," Liam said with a shrug, grin still in place. "I just thought I'd lend my aid should you wish it in asking her majesty for a dance."

Killian felt his face flame for probably the millionth time that night as he guided Emma a few steps away where they wouldn't be disturbed by his embarrassing brother. Why was this so difficult? This was Emma; just Emma. They'd known each other for more than a decade now, and never had their interactions been so…awkward.

"Would you care to dance, my princess? If your first dance hasn't already been claimed, that is."

Emma dipped into a graceful curtsy and then shot him a shy smile. "I thought you'd never ask. There's no one else I'd wish to share my first dance with."

And as Killian took Emma into his arms and moved to the music, everything around them fell away, the people, the overheated room, the nerves. This feeling, dancing with the woman he loved, this was the closest to heaven he'd ever been.

As the night continued, the princess danced so often with the lieutenant that people began to talk—and more than once Killian caught the king shooting him looks that no doubt could kill.

Emma caught the direction of his gaze and the way he swallowed hard, and her eyes narrowed. Taking his hand, she led him to a balcony off the ball room, where the first snow of the season was still resolutely falling.

"I'm not sure this is proper, Swan," Killian muttered, nevertheless letting himself be led.

"Don't be ridiculous Killian," Emma said shutting the glass doors behind them and then turning toward him. "We're still in plain sight…this just gives us a chance to have a moment alone."

Killian shuffled nervously for a moment—and then he looked down at her. The snow landed on her hair, on her dress, on the gentle curve of her cheek. He reached up, cupping her face, wiping away the offending flake with a swipe of his thumb. Emma reached up and held his hand in place, her fingers tangling with his.

And then he lost his head altogether. Leaning down, he captured her lips with his own. She sighed his name and then wrapped her arms around his neck and enthusiastically returned his kiss. Killian pulled her to him, holding her even tighter, just as a pulse of rainbow-tinted electricity shot from between them, spreading out to cover the whole kingdom.

"Was that….?" Killian asked, pulling away slightly, eyes wide.

Emma smiled radiantly, cupping the back of his head, bringing him down for a second—and then third—kiss. "Yeah. I don't think there can be any doubt; that was True Love's Kiss."

"But there was no curse to be broken…"

Emma cupped his cheek, reaching to rest her forehead against his. "Perhaps we have a love so strong a curse isn't necessary to prove it."

… _and that the couple who pledges their troth beneath the gentle fall of the first snow will live happily ever afterwards._

The first ball of the Yuletide was a turning point for Princess Emma and Lieutenant Killian. If they'd been close before, they were positively inseparable after sharing True Love's Kiss. It was generally considered to be a romance worthy of fairy tales, and there wasn't a soul in Misthaven who was surprised when the couple announced their engagement some six months later. (It was, however said, that King David threatened the young lieutenant within an inch of his life should he ever cause the princess a moment of pain. It was further said the lieutenant laughed long and heartily at the very notion, after which he and the king became fast and forever friends.)

And so it was that the first snowfall of the following year found Princess Emma of Misthaven and Lietenant Killian Jones of the Royal Navy exchanging their wedding vows in the large, palace chapel, the curtains of the floor-to-ceiling windows thrown wide to show Mother Nature's blessing on the happy couple.

It was said that there wasn't a dry eye in the entire kingdom as Captain Liam Jones proclaimed the couple husband and wife, and Killian kissed his bride.

They, of course, _did_ live happily ever afterwards.


End file.
